Captain
by ko-writes
Summary: Cabin Pressure/Doctor Who crossover. Prompt: Martin gets unstuck in time, but is somehow connected to Douglas, skipping back and forth on Douglas' personal time line and observing or participating in the major and not so major events of Douglas' life. It's only inspired by this prompt...


Work Text:

**1976**

Douglas walked into his brother's video shop. It was the new craze, apparently, and did good business.

"Ah, Douglas! Glad you could make it!" his brother smiled.

"Ok, Robert. Where is this 'weird' thing you have to show me?" Douglas sighed; he couldn't be bothered with this today.

"Here it is!" Robert held up an ordinary black video tape.

"Uh… I hate to spoil it for you, but you are currently in – currently _own_ – a shop full of those," he smirked.

"It's what's on it! It's like we're listening to half a conversation…"

Robert fed the tape into the slot and the image appeared on screen; a slim, pale man with freckles along his cheekbones and ginger curls. "Hello," he said.

"This is ridiculous!" Douglas huffed.

"I guess it is a bit," the man on screen shrugged.

"That was weird," Douglas muttered.

"Yeah, but most of the best things are," The man on screen giggled.

"This… is extraordinary! It's like he can hear you!" Robert exclaimed.

"But I can't, that would be ridiculous and impossible," The man on screen corrected.

"I'm writing this down!" Robert announced, scribbling on a notepad.

"He's ridiculous!" Douglas accused, a little too freaked out for his own good.

"Hey! That's not nice!" The man pouted, "And don't keep saying 'he'."

"Then what _should_ I say?!"

"Call me Captain," The man smiled.

"Alright, _Captain_; how can you have this conversation with us – well, me – if you can't hear us?" Douglas challenged.

"Oh, I know what you're going to say. I'm a time traveller!" Captain beamed.

"Even so, how do you know what I'm going to say in a conversation you're just having? It makes no sense!"

"People don't understand time. It's not what you think it is.

"Then what is it?"

"… Complicated."

"Tell me."

"Very complicated."

"I'm clever. And I'm listening. And don't patronize me because people have died and I'm not happy. Tell me!"

Captain sighed, "People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect. But actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff."

"Very precise," Douglas drawled.

"It got away from me, I grant you."

Douglas laughed before quickly sobering and turning, almost violently, to Robert. "This is impossible!"

"No, it's brilliant!" Robert exclaimed.

"Getting back to the point; I can't hear you exactly, but I know everything you're going to say."

"Always give me the shivers, that bit," Robert remarked.

"How can you know what I'm going to say?" Douglas asked.

"Look to your left," Captain nodded.

"What does he mean by "look to your left"? I've written tons about that on the forums. I think it's a political statement," Robert theorised.

"He means you, idiot! What are you doing?" Douglas demanded.

"Calm down! I'm writing in your bits. That way I've got a complete transcript of the conversation. Wait until my friends hear this! We could publish it in the paper!" Robert laughed.

"_Friends_?" Douglas drawled.

"Hey!" Robert protested.

"Hang on! Are you… reading this conversation? Now?" Douglas asked.

"Yes! Wow! How clever! Well, not reading it there now, reading it here now; because I'd have to wait fifty three years to read it there now."

"Huh?" Douglas and, especially, Robert looked blank.

"See, not as clever as you thought, are you?!" Captain smirked, before he sighed, deflating, "Look… I have a… slight confession. I _was_ a time traveller, but I'm sort of… stuck… in 1923."

"How are you stuck?" Douglas asked.

"The Angels have my van…" Captain admitted.

""The angels have my van". That's my favourite. I've got that on a t-shirt," Robert smiled.

"Why? It's useless," Captain frowned.

Robert gaped as Douglas smirked. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I want you to drop the keys off to a friend of mine. He'll be in a hoodie and a mask. Oh God…" Captain's face dropped.

"What is it?" Robert asked.

"I'm letting _him_ drive my _van_!" Captain groaned.

"Look, what are the 'angels'?" Douglas asked.

"Nothing you need to know too much about. They look like stone statues, but they aren't. They're alive. Oh! This is _very_ important; if you come across one, your life will depend on this so _listen_! Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"_Really_ listening?"

"Yes!"

"Ok. Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink! Drop the keys off to Doug – Doctor! Doctor! At Fitton square at 7 o'clock, Saturday evening. Good luck."

"Wait! What key?" Robert asked.

"Ask him," Captain nodded, before the picture disappeared.

"Lucky I found these on a statue in Trafalgar Square last week, isn't it?" Douglas let the keys dangle from his hand.

"Amazing."

"Come on! We've got an hour!"

The brothers waited for _'Doctor'_ for half an hour after he was due to turn up. "He's late…" Robert muttered.

"Doesn't matter; here he comes!" Douglas pointed to a hooded stranger of a heavier build walking down the street. The walked towards him.

"You wouldn't happen to be a friend of _Captain_, _Doctor_?" Douglas smirked. Doctor nodded. "Go get him, will you; don't be late."

For some reason, _Doctor _tilted his head to stare at Douglas for a moment before walking off. "Weird," Robert remarked.

"You can talk."

**1923**

The van landed smoothly as _Doctor _got out. He ripped off his hoodie and mask before entering the old, abandoned factory building.

"Douglas!" Captain called.

"Oh hello, _Captain_," Douglas drawled.

"Please stop teasing me," _Captain_ groaned.

"Fine, Martin," Douglas smiled fondly.

"Was it… a shock for you? Seeing me at MJN?"

"It was, actually. My brother told a few people and got called crazy; never got published in the paper…"

"Thank God you gave it to dad when you saw him running around. I am most certainly glad we're dead ringers for each other."

"And thank God for wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff," Douglas smirked.

"Alright! Let's just grab Arthur and get back to 2020; I miss Sherlock fanfiction!"

"Fine, you hopeless fanboy; just don't land with the brakes on… _again_."


End file.
